Unforeseen
by Abstractly
Summary: After a plan involving Polyjuice goes wrong, Hermione finds herself in an unexpected situation with Malfoy.
1. Essence of Malfoy

_Author's Note: This is my first fan-fiction, so I'd really appreciate any and all reviews and suggestions :)_

* * *

"He's up to something, and I'm going to prove it," Harry muttered to Ron. Across the room, Malfoy leaned over the desk, his frame shielding the parchment as his quill flew across it.

"For the last time Harry, Voldemort wouldn't have made a _sixteen_ year old a Death Eater," Hermione hissed, her head still buried in _Confronting the Faceless_.

"He winced when Madame Malkin touched his arm," Harry countered.

"That doesn't prove anything!"

"Your conversation is undoubtedly enthralling, but it will have to wait until after class. Fifteen points from Gryffindor," Snape said over their shoulders. He strode to the front of their desk and flipped open Ron's textbook. "I suggest you start reading, before you make a fool of yourself like Potter. _Ghosts are transparent_," he scoffed.

* * *

"I've got an idea," Harry said as they entered the common room that evening.

"Just forget it, Harry," Hermione replied.

"No. I know there's a plan, and I'm not letting him follow through with it."

"Do you really think he's capable of being a Death Eater?" Hermione asked.

"Runs in the family," Ron replied. "Besides, he's a git."

"He's sixteen," Hermione argued.

"He's less 'sixteen and never been kissed', and more 'sixteen and capable of murder."

"We've got to stop him before he does something," Harry urged.

"Fine, let's say that we choose to do something. What can we even do? He caught you in his train carriage, he already knows that you're suspicious," Hermione said.

"We use Polyjuice Potion." Hermione groaned.

"We'll try not to give you cat hair this time," Ron said to Hermione.

"Where would we get Polyjuice Potion from? Need I remind you, it takes a month to brew." Harry grinned and pulled a flask of muddy-brown liquid from his robes. Hermione's eyes widened. "Where did you get that?"

"Slughorn's potions cupboard. He had a cauldron full at our first lesson, remember? I just swiped a bit while he was busy fixing Neville's potion."

"Okay," Hermione said.

Harry turned to Ron. "Are you in, or not?"

"I guess .. Hermione?"

"Fine. But I'm telling you, he's not a Death Eater."

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione were the first out of the Great Hall after dinner the next night. Harry pulled the Marauder's Map from his pocket and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The page filled with ink, and he scanned it for the dots of Malfoy's cronies.

"Pansy and Goyle are heading out of the Great Hall now, looks like they're heading towards the dungeons." The trio jogged down the stone corridor, slowing as they reached the corner where it intersected with the Slytherins' path.

Hermione peered around the corner, and upon catching side of the two Slytherins, silently stunned Pansy. Goyle turned in shock, but before he could shout out Hermione stunned him too. Harry and Ron hurried over and they hoisted their victims into the nearest broom cupboard.

"Obliviate," Hermione whispered as Harry ripped out strands of their hair.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked Hermione as she proceeded to mutter enchantments at the door.

"Timed lock. They won't be able to get out of there for two hours, and the memory charm will stop them knowing how they got there in the first place."

"Wicked," Ron replied.

* * *

"I've missed this place," Ron said as they snuck into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Hermione poured the potion into two flasks, and added the hairs. "You ready?" she asked. They'd intended on stunning three Slytherins, but hadn't wanted to wait around for one to go for a solo stroll. Harry and Hermione raised the glasses to their lips. He tried to swallow it without tasting it, but the pungent taste filled his mouth.

"His taste hasn't improved," Harry joked. Once the painful transformation was complete, he took of his glasses and turned to Hermione.

"If I ever want to be uglier, remind me to take Polyjuice Potion with the essence of Slytherin," Ron quipped.

"We'd better get going," Hermione said.

"I'll check it's safe for you to leave, and then I'll meet you back at the common room later," Ron said.

Harry checked his map again. "Malfoy's leaving the Great Hall now, let's get going," They hurried down the corridor.

"So I told Professor Flitwick, you just wait until my father hears about this," they heard his voice in the distance. "He just about fell off his table!" A roar of laughter could be heard from his Slytherin cronies.

"Pretend to do up your shoe," Hermione whispered as they moved into the corridor. Harry crouched down and fiddled with his laces.

"Pansy, Goyle," Malfoy said when he glimpsed them.

"Malfoy," Goyle nodded. Hermione smiled flirtily and grabbed Malfoy's arm.

"Wasn't the pumpkin pie just delicious?" she crooned. Harry coughed to stifle a giggle. They reached the stone wall guarding the Slytherin common room.

"Basilisk," Malfoy stated confidently. The stone wall crumbled away, opening the passageway for them. The faint green light from the lake shone upon Malfoy's pale locks as he sat on one of the plush armchairs. Harry glanced at his forearm, hoping for a sight of the tell-tale mark, but the skin was shielded by his black sweater. Hermione glanced at him; they hadn't planned what they were actually going to say when they got here.

"Are you sure you can't tell us more about this task?" Harry asked Malfoy.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Haven't I already told you enough?"

"Hardly," Harry replied.

"I told you, its top secret, I've been entrusted." Was that pride that filled Malfoy's voice? Harry glanced at Hermione uncertainly.

"Draco," Hermione murmured, "Could I possibly talk to you for a moment in private?" She batted her eyelashes at him. Malfoy placed his hand on the small of Hermione's back as they made their way down the stone steps.

They entered the room, and Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

"Shhh," Malfoy whispered, manoeuvring her towards the wall. Before she could react, his body was pressed against hers, and their lips were interlocked.


	2. Shocked

His hands trailed down her waist as they kissed frantically. Their tongues danced, and Hermione hated to admit it, but this was actually kind of pleasant.

She broke away from the kiss, and gazed up into Malfoy's deep eyes. A half smirk crossed his face.

Hermione placed her hand on his chest and murmured, "I think it's so sexy that you're, y'know, helping _him_ out. You're so brave." Hermione's insides shuddered to think that she having to flirt with Malfoy.

"I guess it is a pretty important task," he replied. He ran his fingers through his blonde locks, pushing them out of his eyes.

Hermione got up on his tiptoes and whispered into his ear, "Tell me all about it."

"Don't we have better things to do right now?" Malfoy replied. He returned his arms to her waist, and his face closed in upon her. Their lips locked and he kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring every crevice of her mouth. Hermione moved her hands down his arms, and delicately pushed up the sleeves of his sweater. Malfoy broke the kiss for a moment.

"What are you doing?" He asked, pulling the sleeves back down. Before he could conceal his forearm, Hermione caught a glimpse of the dark mark burned onto his skin. A momentary expression of shock crossed her face; she honestly hadn't believed that Voldemort would want a school student as a Death Eater. Malfoy stared at her questioningly.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Only when he summons us," Malfoy replied, still staring deep into her eyes.

Unsure of how else to fix the moment, she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled his lips towards hers. Their tongues danced, and he occasionally nibbled on her bottom lip. The majority of her felt revolted at the thought of kissing a death eater, but a small part realised that he was actually a good kisser. She needed to leave, but couldn't without appearing suspicious. How much time was left? The hour must be nearly up.

* * *

Harry tapped his feet impatiently; he was tired of trying to make small talk with Crabbe. A bullfrog would have more brains than the sixteen year old sitting across from him. He checked his watch. They only had 5 minutes left, before the whole plan was bust. He got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Crabbe asked.

"Need to get something," Harry said vaguely, heading down the stairs to the dormitories. When he opened the door to the Sixth Year dorm, the sight he met made him take a step back in horror. Malfoy disentangled his hands from Hermione's hair, and glared towards the door.

"Ever heard of knocking?" he snarled.

"I .. uh .. it's my dorm too," Harry stuttered. Malfoy stared at him, his eyes cold and black. "Won't happen again." Malfoy gestured his head towards the door, indicating that Harry should leave. "Actually, Snape needs to see Pansy. Right now," Harry improvised. Relieved, Hermione started to walk towards him.

Malfoy grabbed her arm. "Not so quick." He turned to Harry and said, "She'll be out in a moment, Goyle." Harry nodded, and with a worried glance at Hermione, walked out of the dorm. Malfoy flicked his wand and the door shut behind him.

"I think we have time for one last kiss," Malfoy whispered. Hermione knew that she really needed to get out of there, but didn't feel like she had any other option. Their lips met once again, and his hands started to wander. She may have been in Pansy's body, but she still didn't particularly want to be groped by Malfoy. She pushed away.

"I really should go. We don't want Snape to find us like this," Hermione said. She tried to look disappointed, like all she wanted to do was swap spit with Malfoy.

"That last one didn't count because you broke it off. You're going to give me one more," Malfoy demanded. Hermione tried to take a step back, but before she could he was frantically kissing her. She suddenly felt queasy, and a weird rumble filled her body.

"Pansy!" Harry yelled from outside the dormitory. The Polyjuice Potion was wearing off; they needed to get out of there immediately.

The yell startled Malfoy, and he opened his eyes. He abruptly stepped away from Hermione.

"You!" he snarled. His eyes were ablaze. Hermione turned and bolted for the door, but once again he caught her. His eyes bore into her, and she trembled with fear.

"If you breathe a word of about any of this to anyone, I'll make damn sure you get expelled for using Polyjuice Potion, you filthy little mudblood," he spat.

"Who's going to believe the word of a Death Eater?" Hermione replied coolly.

She met Harry outside the dorm and they sprinted up the crumbling steps and out of the common room.

* * *

"What happened in there?" Harry asked when they were back in the Gryffindor common room.

"Apparently Pansy uses the word 'talk' to mean something completely different," Hermione replied. Not wanting to recap her make-out session with Malfoy, she let Harry tell Ron his side of the story.

"So, did you get anything important out of Malfoy?" Ron asked once Harry finished his tale.

Hermione turned to Harry. "You were right. He's one of them. I saw his mark."


	3. Revelation

_Author's note: I only started writing this less than 24 hours ago, so I'm sorry that there's not much content left. If you like what's here so far, I'd really appreciate it if you let me know and I'll try my best to update as regularly as possible_

* * *

In the week that followed, if Draco wasn't busy scribbling plans in class, he was glaring at Hermione. He couldn't believe that she had fooled him into believing that she was Pansy. He hadn't even been able to tell when they were kissing - surprisingly, Granger wasn't half bad. He wanted to smash his head against the wall for even thinking that. '_It's because she was in Pansy's body_', he told himself. '_The only reason you enjoyed it was because she was Pansy_.'

Still fuming over Granger's knowledge about his alliance, he sloppily threw his books in his bag and joined the movement out of the dungeon once Potions ended. He felt a hand grabbing his arm, dragging him to the side of the corridor.

"Draco," Pansy said. It was the real Pansy, Draco noted – Granger just walked past with Scarhead and Weasel. He'd been avoiding Pansy since the incident with Granger, so he wasn't particularly keen to talk to her right now.

"Yeah?" he questioned.

"What's going on? Please. You have to tell me what's going on. What's so bad you can't tell me?" Pansy's eyebrows were furrowed with concern. He'd always assumed that she hung around him for his status and looks, but perhaps she did actually care.

"Broom cupboard. Near Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Meet me there in 15," he demanded. If she wanted to know the full story, she was going to have to work for it.

* * *

"Have you got any more Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione asked, from the vantage point where they'd been spying on Malfoy. Harry pulled the large flask from his robes; approximately two-thirds remained.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ron asked, concerned about what Hermione might be getting herself into.

"If it means bringing Malfoy down, then I'm willing," Hermione replied.

"Let's find Pansy," Harry said.

Once Pansy was stunned and locked in a different broom cupboard, the trio snuck into Myrtle's bathroom.

"Back again?" Myrtle cried gleefully. She eyed the Polyjuice Potion. "Are we going to turn into a dog this time?" she giggled.

"Shut it, Myrtle," Ron interjected.

Hermione gulped down the potion, while Harry peered outside of the girl's lavatory.

"He just went into the cupboard, you're safe," Harry said.

"Good luck," the boys said as she exited the bathroom.

Hermione paused for a moment outside the broom cupboard, unwillingly to be seen going into an obvious hook up spot, even if she was disguised as Pansy. She ducked inside, shutting the door behind her. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust and notice Malfoy standing towards the back of the cupboard.

"Pansy," he greeted her.

"Draco," Hermione replied sweetly. He glanced down at her, his face dark but not unkind. "Can you please tell me what's going on?" she asked.

"We're in a broom closet, and you want to talk about my feelings?" Malfoy raised his eyebrows. Hermione reeled on the inside; this wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought.

"Only to start with. I'm worried about you, Draco," Hermione responded. Malfoy sighed and sat down in the corner of the cupboard, pulling her onto his lap.

"The Dark Lord has set me a task … one he knows that I won't possibly be able to complete. When I fail, my father will have to pay." Hermione was shocked to see pain in his eyes.

"Is there anything you can do?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "This is his revenge on my father for what happened in the Department of Mysteries." Instinctively, Hermione wrapped her arms around him. She really wasn't sure what to think about this. He was a Death Eater, but not by his choice.

"Why do you act so happy about being one of them?" Hermione asked.

"Do I really have any other choice?" Malfoy replied. Hermione couldn't believe it; she was actually feeling sorry for Malfoy. He was human; not a soulless killing machine like Voldemort.

He leaned down and kissed her gently. His lips parted hers softly, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. Their tongues danced. The kiss was deep and passionate, emotions Hermione had never thought that Malfoy would be able to express. She couldn't leave; she couldn't walk out after he'd told her something so person. Even though he did think she was Pansy, she couldn't do that to him.

His hands trailed up her body, and Hermione realised that she was going to let him. She couldn't hurt him after what he'd just shared. He also couldn't know that it was her he told, and not Pansy, so either way she had no choice but to keep up the façade. Malfoy's hands started to graze up her leg. Hermione's instinct was to push him away, but she couldn't do that. She had to stay in character, but she didn't want his hands there. Even if she was Pansy.

Hermione pushed Malfoy down so his back lay on the cold cement. She knew that the only way she could get out of here without hurting him was by giving him what he wanted. She left a trail of kisses down his neck, lifted his shirt up and continued down his abdomen. She glanced up at him and raised her eyebrows; he gave her a half smile. Her hands trailed lower, fumbling with the clasp on his belt, her lips soon to follow. She'd already gotten what she came here for, and he was about to.


End file.
